


Symbiosis

by sternfleck



Series: Arcana Imperii [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Chancellor Hux, Explicit Consent, Hux is desperate for cock, Hux is vain, M/M, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Armitage Hux, Pregnancy Kink, Purity Kink, Service Top Kylo Ren, Shame kink, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Title Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, mentions of branding, sort of but it's just the one alien egg so it's mild, that's it that's the fic, they're pretty much married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternfleck/pseuds/sternfleck
Summary: The Supreme Leader subdues a rebellion in a star system known for its unique aphrodisiacs. His Chancellor requests a specific war trophy — an egg, to be applied internally.Based on the “Duel of the Fates” leaked alternate script for Episode 9.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Arcana Imperii [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694788
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same verse as my fic [“Conquest,”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485099) in which Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and Chancellor Hux have ruled the Galaxy together for eight years after the events of The Last Jedi. The Arcana Imperii series-verse is based on Duel of the Fates, the leaked original script for Episode 9. This fic takes place two years prior to “Conquest," but both fics stand alone.
> 
> I wrote this for a self-imposed Easter deadline, so here it is. It's not really a classic oviposition fic, but there is an egg, which makes it seasonal and festive.

It doesn’t escape Hux’s notice that when Ren returns to the Capitol on Coruscant after his missions, he travels straight to Hux’s chambers first, without stopping at his own. It’s as though Ren can’t bear another moment without the Chancellor by his side. The Supreme Leader is a sentimental fool.

Ren plays cold and coy, of course, when he stands before Hux by the indoor fountain. Haughty under his dark sweep of hair, he pretends he’s not dying to take Hux into his arms. Hux combs his fingers through Ren’s tresses and joins his hands at the back of Ren’s head, drawing Ren’s lips down to his.

This is how they greet each other, now, after six years on their respective thrones. Supreme Leader and Chancellor of the First Order. _Chancellor of the Galaxy,_ Hux reminds himself with a thrill. 

“You missed me,” Hux accuses, after their kiss. “You came straight to my rooms without even a sonic. You’re filthy.”

“I did miss you,” says Ren.

From anyone else, this would be damning, a confession of weakness. But from Ren, it’s practically a threat. Ren’s gaze is heavy with entitlement, with lust, and so Hux kisses him again, and this time, Hux opens his mouth.

Ren smells like space — stale and burnt and metallic — and like xeno blood, from whatever alien creatures he’s been slaughtering in the name of the First Order. Hux presses his body closer to Ren’s, in spite of the fact that the mess on the Supreme Leader’s tunic will doubtless stain his white uniform. He has other uniforms, and it has been some time since he last saw Kylo Ren.

“What have you brought for me this time, Kylo?”

Each time the Supreme Leader takes a new planet for the Empire of the First Order, he brings something back. Sometimes he brings a lightsaber or another mystical artefact for Hux, for the Chancellor’s ongoing experiments on the origins and nature of the Force.

But not every planet has mystical traditions. Every planet does, however, have sexual ones. When Ren can’t dig up an ancient Jedi or Sith weapon for Hux, he finds something to offer from the planet’s local erotic customs.

If Hux has a specific request, Ren does his best to fulfil it. He’s never failed so far.

Ren rolls his shoulders and reaches inside a pocket in the lining of his cloak.

“What you asked for.”

A thrill of pleasure rises in Hux’s chest and travels down his body to the base of his spine.

Oh, the Supreme Leader has his faults. There’s no denying that. But he has his uses, too. At times like this, Hux remembers them.

“Good boy,” says Hux, meeting Kylo’s gaze. He turns and makes his way to the bedroom without delay.

The Supreme Leader, as always, follows him.

Hux sits primly at the edge of the bed, disguising his anticipation. He intends to have Ren kneel and pull Hux’s boots off for him, as usual, and then they will proceed according to their routine.

But Ren surprises him. With a quick press of the Force to his chest, he pushes Hux flat, covering Hux’s body with his.

There’s more than sentiment to Ren’s eagerness tonight. There’s lust, as well. The evidence of it is hot against Hux’s thigh. Ren’s stamina, his quick and frequent arousal, is astonishing at times. Hux assumes it has something to do with the Force. He grinds his thigh against Ren’s hardness, and the Supreme Leader gasps, low and rough, next to Hux’s ear.

As Ren presses a wet kiss to Hux’s sideburn, the Chancellor has a clear view out of the viewport at the city far below. If a pilot of a small craft were to chance their luck against the First Order Capitol’s shields and succeed in flying past the Chancellor’s window, they’d come away with rich new gossip for the underground presses, which never tire of speculating on the nature of the Supreme Leader’s relationship with his Chancellor. But even the most licentious of these publications don't imagine what Hux and Ren actually indulge in.

“Show me,” Hux orders. “Don’t just rut against me like a cadet. I didn’t send you to crush the Folvax rebellion so you could defile my uniform with alien entrails.”

Ren pulls back, full lips open.

“You _want_ me to defile you,” says the Supreme Leader. “With this.” 

In his hand, Ren holds an egg. It’s the very sort of egg Hux told him to bring back from the Folvax System: elongated in shape, a few centimetres in size, and pale green, like a moon. It resembles the pictures on the holonet, and it sits perfectly in Ren’s gloved palm.

Hux takes it in his fingers. It’s dry to the touch. There’s no shell around it. Instead, there’s a membrane, soft as skin. So pale it’s nearly luminous. Immediately, Hux likes it even more than he expected he would. It’s beautiful, and Hux has a weakness for beauty. It’s also orderly, with its clean smoothness, its symmetrical proportions. Upon inspection, the egg looks as though it truly could offer the benefits the holonet claims it will.

“It won’t defile me,” Hux objects. “It’s from a species sought throughout the Galaxy. It purifies the body.”

Ren gazes down his impressive nose at Hux. Then he scoffs. What nerve.

“It’s a symbiotic organism,” Hux goes on. “It lives inside the body for its lifespan of a standard month. It’s harmless. In fact, it prevents disease. It increases sexual pleasure and provides physical benefits for its host. For example, soft skin. Thicker hair.”

Hux tries to project intellectual authority. He wishes he sounded less defensive.

“Your desire is heavy in the Force,” says Ren. “You want that thing in your hole. Don’t try to pretend you’re not getting off on it.”

Hux sighs, feigning indignation. “Ren, that’s perverse. If I’m aroused, it’s because you’re on top of me with your enormous cock pressed into my leg.”

Ren frowns at the use of his surname, but his frown disappears by the end of Hux’s sentence. He’s far too proud of his size. Then, Hux hasn’t done much to discourage Ren’s self-satisfaction in that department.

Smirking, Ren says, “You’re taking both.”

“Both, Supreme Leader?”

“I’m fucking that thing into you until you can’t tell me it doesn’t make your little prick leak whenever you think about it.”

Ren isn’t wrong, though Hux won’t admit it. He doesn’t need to. With their bodies together like this, he’s hard against Ren’s stomach, offering proof of the truth of Ren’s words.

Hux shuts his eyes. The egg sits in his palm, losing its chill as it absorbs warmth from his skin. He’s going to take it inside him, feel the stretch of it, and then, when it’s in place, he’ll take Ren, who will spill himself hot into Hux with a long, stuttering moan. It takes every particle of Hux’s will to still his hips, to keep from rutting against Ren.

“If you must,” he sighs. “I accept that your perversions have no end, Supreme Leader. It’s my misfortune to be the object of them.”

Ren nips at Hux’s jaw, then kisses where he’s bitten it. He tangles his hand into Hux’s hair, messing it up. Hux tips his head back into Ren’s hand, into his touch.

“Long-suffering Hux. A martyr for my worst impulses. My poor, good Chancellor.”

“You won’t corrupt me, Ren. My health rituals are innocent. None of your vile sexual efforts will change that.”

“You’re not innocent. You’re aching for this. Your little cock is so hard.”

Hux hisses through his teeth as Ren moves his hand from Hux’s hair, down his front, to where his perfectly average-sized cock is tenting his uniform trousers. Hux’s legs fall open involuntarily, and he pushes into Ren’s palm, the pressure on his erection sweet and dizzying.

“You want this,” says Ren, voice thick with lust.

Hux whines, nodding. It’s depraved. _He’s_ depraved, but he’s always been this way, even before Ren. Though Ren hasn’t helped matters. 

“Tell me you want it.”

Ren has an odd obsession with Hux’s desire. The Supreme Leader can take what he wants from anyone in the Galaxy. Hux has never understood why Ren consistently demands verbal consent for what they do. Some relic of his New Republic upbringing, perhaps. Or else Ren simply likes to make Hux beg.

“Supreme Leader. Open me up. Fuck me. Give me what I need. Surely you didn’t go to such trouble on Folvax Prime to deny me this.”

“It was easy. I got it from a spa, like you told me to.”

“A spa. Not a sex shop. There you have it. This is an entirely innocent ritual.” Hux raises his eyebrows, his gaze cold, challenging Ren.

Ren only rolls his eyes. He drags his index finger down through the air in a sharp slashing motion. Hux’s uniform falls open, pulled apart to reveal the body armour he wears underneath.

At the sight of it, Ren slams his hands down on Hux’s shoulders, crushing his pointed gold epaulets. Hux offers a token scowl, a caution for Ren to be more careful, but this uniform is ruined anyway. As much as Hux hates waste, he likes the fact that Ren’s lust for him can still, after eleven years, make the Supreme Leader lose his composure.

Ren snarls, his lips glossy. “Why do you make it difficult for me to undress you, Chancellor? You’re my consort. You should be open and slick for me all the time, not bound up in a fucking corset like you think you’re too good to scream on my cock.”

It’s a tempting prospect. Hux wouldn’t say no to a few days of leave dedicated to exploring such a fantasy. But the Supreme Leader knows well why Hux wears his blastproof vest. The war gave Hux only one lasting scar, faded nearly to nothing now — a splash of blaster plasma across his upper abdomen, the bolt halted by the vest. He’s not about to abandon his security precautions now, not when their Empire relies on his survival.

“I can undress myself. If your precious Force has met its limits at last.”

Ren seethes. Speaks through bared teeth. “The Dark Side has no limits, Chancellor. Your lack of faith will be your undoing.”

“Undo me, then.”

Hux thrusts out his chest, inviting Ren’s touch. Suppressing a smile, he meets the wild darkness in Ren’s eyes. The desire there is staggering. Stars, Ren is _mad_ for Hux. Hux hurts with the flare of need that blows through him at the thought. 

Hux’s hand clenches around the egg, and it vibrates slightly, as if reminding him not to squeeze too hard.

He shakes off Ren’s grip on his shoulders and sits up, shedding his tunic. It slides off the bed to the floor, pulled by the Force. The side fasteners of his vest take longer — despite his talk, Ren struggles with them every time — until at last the vest is on the floor as well. Only the monomolecular blade remains, strapped to Hux’s forearm. The blade stays on even when Hux is otherwise undressed. Like the vest, the blade isn’t strictly necessary in his present lifestyle. But it’s protocol. Hux knows himself by his protocol.

As Ren’s Force-grip moves to Hux’s boots and jodhpurs, Hux sets the egg on the bedside table, freeing his hands. He opens Ren’s tunic, unclasps his belt.

The first glimpse of Ren’s chest is mouth-watering, as always. Hux would rather be touched than touch Ren, as a rule, but he struggles to keep his hands away from the Supreme Leader’s broad pectoral muscles. Ren’s nipples are sensitive, for one thing, and if Hux plays with them long enough, with the right humiliating words applied at choice intervals, Ren will come all over himself without a touch to his cock. But there’s a softness to Ren’s chest, too, a vulnerability that doesn’t match the rest of his trained, scarred body. Is this how Ren feels when he looks at Hux? Is this why Ren treasures Hux’s delicate build, his soft belly, his pretences of unspoiled purity?

Hux lifts his mouth to Ren’s chest and bites him near his nipple. The skin smells of Ren and tastes of minerals, of salt. In response, Ren makes a devastated sound and falls upon Hux, ravenous, kissing his neck.

“Tell me to put that egg inside you,” he murmurs between messy kisses. “Tell me to fill you with my come, Hux. You’re aching for it. Please, fuck. Let me serve you.”

Oh, Kylo. He’s a good boy, when he wants to be. His submission never fails to charm Hux.

“That’s right, Supreme Leader. You serve me, Kylo, don’t you? You know your place.”

Hux runs his hand up Ren’s broad back, beneath his clothes, and Ren exhales heat across Hux’s throat as he shrugs out of his tunic, pressing his chest against Hux’s. The heat of Ren’s skin drives Hux’s desire to a new pitch. He spreads his legs, wraps them around Ren’s waist. As Hux nibbles along the shell of Ren’s ear, his head fills with the scent of Ren’s hair.

“You’re good to me, Supreme Leader,” Hux whispers. The praise will get Ren exactly to where Hux wants him. “Conquering planets for me. Going to war to fill me with the spoils of your conquests. Such a good boy for your Chancellor, Kylo.” He kisses Ren in front of his ear, at the juncture of his cheekbone and his temple. “Now, Kylo, open me up and fuck it into me. I’ll be handsome for you, Supreme Leader. So soft. Healthy. Pure.”

“You’ll be full,” Ren hisses, his pupils black as space. “Full of my cock. And that fucking egg that makes you so hard you can barely stand it.”

Ren kisses him, using the Force to pull Hux’s jaw open so he can lick all the way inside Hux’s mouth. Fuck, Ren's tongue is good. The taste of him hits Hux like a stim, and Hux is suddenly desperate for Ren to take him, even if he’s not prepared, even if the stretch of Ren’s cock is painful, punishing.

Hux moans all his breath out against Ren’s mouth, sending out his desire into the Force with as much clarity as he can. As though his legs around Ren’s waist don’t send a clear message. As though his cock hasn’t leaked through his underwear by now, smearing the high front of Ren’s leggings with pre-come.

 _You’re eager,_ Ren says in his head, still kissing him. _What is it about this egg?_

 _It’s not the egg,_ Hux answers, although, of course, it is. _It’s you, Supreme Leader. Be good and give me your big cock._

_I’m in your head, Hux. I can see everything. Enough titles and flattery. What are you not telling me?_

Ren moves his mouth down to Hux’s neck, and Hux takes a deep breath, speaking with effort through his lust.

“You know how vain I am, Supreme Leader. It arouses me to care for myself and look my best for the Order. And for you.”

This is an outright lie. Hux’s vanity is primarily egocentric, not erotic. But Hux won’t even admit to himself why he requested Ren bring this egg to him from the Folvax System. Ren won’t find the answer in his head. Hux has pushed the thought down deep, where his more shameful fantasies reside.

“You’re my pretty Chancellor,” says Ren against Hux’s collarbone. He licks the sweep of it with his hot tongue, messy, hungry. “And you know it. You’re getting off on something else. I’m going to find out what it is.”

This, too, is erotic. If Ren can figure out the humiliating eccentricities of Hux’s lust on his own, Hux can pretend all of it was Ren’s idea. Ren’s sexuality is neat and simple: he wants to serve Hux and submit to his cruel whims, after making a few token attempts to maintain his sense of control. Hux’s sexuality is a mystery even to him, a starless void containing secrets and monsters invisible to ordinary eyes. It terrifies him at times. It’s one of the few aspects of his mind he hasn’t combed through and compartmentalised into rigid order.

If Ren wants to brave this void, let him. Ren has always been the more adventurous of their unofficial pair.

Hux, for his part, is content to profit from Ren’s adventures.

“Right now, Supreme Leader, you will fuck me. Prepare me with two fingers only. I want to be tight for you.”

Ren stares, transfixed. He moans through his nose, a barely audible sound. When he’s overcome with awe like this, Ren looks younger, like the scarless, spoiled prince he was when they met. The first time Ren dropped to one knee before Hux and took his hand, kissing the blue veins of his wrist above his General’s glove, Hux nearly came undone. Ren has collected new scars over the years, but his charms have not waned.

“Don’t just stare, Supreme Leader. Prove your prowess. If you don’t obey, I won’t let you come. I’ll merely permit you to fuck me until I’m covered in my orgasm. I won’t even let you lick it up, not even if you beg.”

Ren moves then, eyes widening. He knows none of Hux’s threats are empty. He removes his gloves hastily, fills his palm with lubricant from the bottle on the bedside table, and tugs Hux’s underwear down to his ankles with the Force.

“Hux,” he breathes again and again, kissing Hux’s chest and belly as he slicks his fingers and slides them across Hux’s entrance, cool and tantalising. Ren gets this way when Hux lays down the rules. He loses his arrogance and becomes worshipful, devoted. After eleven years, Hux is almost used to it. It has almost ceased to terrify him to be the focus of Ren’s—

A finger slides into Hux’s hole, and all thoughts leave his mind, as though Ren has banished them with the Force. Hux chokes on his own gasp, pushing his hips forward. Stars, fuck, _Ren_ , the stretch of even one of his thick fingers. He’s so _big_ , everywhere, and so willing, so eager for Hux to show him the way. 

“Another,” Hux whines, barely able to speak. He hisses the first consonant of Ren’s title, unable to even address him properly. There’s no room for propriety here, no room for Hux’s precious customs and traditions, not when Ren is filling him and Hux is losing his reason at the stretch of it.

Ren’s slick fingertip brushes Hux’s prostate, and already, the numb warmth of an orgasm begins its slow build inside him. Hux’s lower body is boneless, filled with pleasure. He’s still, eyes unseeing, hand across his mouth to stifle his rough breaths. His chest heaves as Ren kisses lower on his stomach, sucking at his skin hard enough to bruise.

When, at last, Ren adds a second finger, Hux’s eyes roll back. It’s humiliating how easily Hux comes apart like this, how incapable he is of anything else when any part of Ren is inside him. Helpless. All his competence vanishes, subsumed into his body’s insistent desire. He’s decadent like this, corrupted, spoiled. He craves it. Ren gives him only what he asks for, and Hux asks for this helplessness. Like the self-indulgent fool he’s always feared he was, Hux begs to be taken to pieces and reduced to this base physical need.

“Enough,” Hux pleads. “Put it in me.”

Ren moves as though to pull his leggings down. The outline of his cock through the fabric, with a wet stain at the tip of it, makes Hux’s nipples ache. But Ren’s cock is not what he wants inside him, not yet.

“Your gift, Supreme Leader. The — the egg.”

Ren smirks at Hux’s struggle to speak the object’s name. He lays his hand across Hux’s belly, pressing, squeezing the softness there. There’s not much, but it’s enough to make Hux blush brighter.

“You want me to fill you.” It’s a question that’s not a question, because Ren knows the answer, and wants to hear Hux say it anyway.

“How many times must I tell you, Ren? Yes! I want this! I want you to fill my hole and come inside me. Now turn me on my front and proceed.”

“No,” says Ren. “I like you like this.”

On his back, Ren means. Ren’s New Republic sentimentality means he likes to fuck face to face, as though they’re lovers, not co-commanders of an empire that survives only by virtue of their continued cooperation. Hux, in contrast, grew up at the Academy, hiding his needs from his filthy-minded dormitory peers by rubbing off against the bed and biting his pillow. Even to this day, with no need for discretion, Hux likes to get fucked into the mattress until his sheets are sticky and his cock is sore from friction.

Ren’s way, though, does have one benefit. Hux can play with the Supreme Leader’s nipples, and watch Ren’s eyes as he struggles to keep from coming without Hux’s permission. The torment of it appeals to Hux’s sadistic side, which is too large to be called a “side,” precisely. If there’s a part of Hux that isn’t sadistic, it’s somewhere out in that starless void with the rest of his unacknowledged desires.

“Fine. For tonight. But don’t make me wait.”

Ren pulls his leggings down and kicks them off to the floor. He reaches again to the bedside table for more lubricant. Ren wraps his slick hand around his own cock, and Hux’s breath catches. Ren really is enormous. At times, it horrifies Hux that he’s able to take such a cock inside him and enjoy it. Usually, though, it makes Hux clench with need. He’s ruined for anything smaller now. In spite of Hux’s resistance, the Supreme Leader has won. Now Hux belongs to him.

With the Force, Ren tilts Hux’s chin up, exposing his pale throat, which Ren has marked with bruising kisses. There’s pressure on Hux’s wrists now, too, and when he tries to lift his hands, he finds them pinned to the mattress.

“You know what I want,” says Ren. In the low light, he looks divine, a dark god of lust out of some primitive world’s cosmology. He wears his wild hair like a crown. His gaze burns. Hux has done this to him, simply by being Hux. Even with his hands restrained and his hole slick to take Ren’s obscene offerings, Hux thrills with a power that dries his mouth and makes his chest flush desert-hot.

“Hux. Plead for it. I want you desperate. Debase yourself, Chancellor. Beg for me to give you what you need.”

For once, Hux doesn’t feel the need to hedge. “Supreme Leader,” he says, voice raw. “Put your foul gifts inside me and stretch me open until I scream.”

Ren takes the egg from the night table, rolling it gently in his wide, slick hand. His face is slack, his long-lashed eyes intense.

“Is this what you want, Chancellor? You want me to fill you with this? Does it make your cock leak to think about being full of what I’ve brought you? You’re my consort,” Ren says again, leaning closer. “Do you want me to fuck you pregnant for our Empire?”

Hux’s eyes fly wide.

Of course this is what Ren wants, this fantasy of unnatural intimacy. Of family. Ren has always wanted Hux bound to him by more than shared ambition. By love.

“Ren,” he says sharply. “I am the Chancellor of the Galaxy we rule together. I requested the egg for its benefits to my health. It is a personal care item, not a child. I am not bearing your heir.”

He couldn’t, anyway. Even with the whole Galaxy in their power, the body has its limits. If he could, would he? Well. It’s not a question worth asking.

Ren bends his dark head, kisses the soft plane of Hux’s belly. The tenderness of the gesture makes Hux’s head swim.

“I’d fuck you every day until it took. Your little tits would swell. One touch and you’d come all over your stomach. No control.”

Hux ignores the lust that rises in him at the thought.

“Bearing a child is a responsibility, not a lurid fantasy.” Besides, Ren already fucks him every day, or nearly.

“I don’t want a child.” Ren reels back. His lips twist. “I want you.”

“Me. Pregnant. For our Empire,” says Hux.

A thick bead of pre-come drops from the head of Ren’s cock to the shaft of Hux’s. Ren inhales a long breath. Blinks slowly, as if to hide the hazy blown-wide blackness of his eyes.

“Sentimental,” Hux sneers.

“You’re as hard as I am,” Ren snarls, face flushed around his scar. “Don’t pretend you’re not mine, Chancellor.”

His voice has a desperation to it. It’s not an order. It’s a plea.

“I’m yours to fuck,” says Hux, because that’s the most he’ll grant to Ren. “So fuck me.”

Ren lowers his body, pressing himself against Hux. Stars, the weight of him sends Hux to a place he never lets his mind go, a place of shelter under someone stronger. Ren will keep him safe, will defend their Empire from harm. Gently, he’s kissing Hux’s throat and chest now, his fingers heavy on Hux’s inner thighs.

Hux tries to raise his hands, and is surprised to find Ren’s Force-grip on his wrists has dissolved. He cards his fingers into Ren’s hair and strokes his head roughly, a reward. Ren moans, and the sound of it vibrates across Hux’s skin.

There’s warmth at the edge of his hole. Ren has the egg in his fingers. It’s slick now, heated from his skin. He drags it across Hux’s entrance, and something sparks in Hux as though he’s been connected to a machine.

“Yes,” he hisses, the word torn from him as his face contorts with pleasure. “Fuck. Kylo. _Now_.” 

Ren pulls back, looking at Hux in mild surprise. “I felt that in the Force,” he says. “You need this.” 

“Have you heard one word I’ve said all night?” Hux pushes his hips down, trying to make contact with the egg again, but Ren, infuriating as always, has pulled it away. “Please, please, Supreme Leader, please, Kylo, stars, I’ll do anything, please, be good to me. Don’t make me wait.”

Oh, this is humiliating, this need. Hux’s teeth clench and his face blazes. He shuts his eyes, as if he could block out the sight of his own debasement, his own desire. But these feelings are inside him, inescapable. He asked for this.

When Ren returns the egg to Hux’s entrance, the same thing happens again. Pleasure sears through Hux, like nothing he’s felt before. His eyes roll back, and he keens desperately. This time, Ren doesn’t relent.

The stretch of the egg inside him is more than Hux expected. Everything is more than Hux expected, because wherever the egg touches him inside, it sets off a cascade of mad bliss that courses through him like an electric shock.

The holonet descriptions said these Folvax System eggs could increase sexual responsiveness. A few of the seedier sites went into detail about unexpected erotic side effects. Hux had interpreted all of this as nothing more than lewd fantasy, and had ignored the way his knees and lips opened as he read. He’d lied to himself when he asked for the egg from Ren. Told himself he wanted it for his health, not his sexual humiliation. But he’d asked for it, and now, here he is, cursing himself for wanting this, because it’s _beyond_ , so far beyond his most hidden desires. 

“Supreme Leader,” he moans into Ren’s ear, as though by invoking Ren’s title, he can somehow sum up his total allegiance to the Empire they’ve built together. All his defences are blown to ash now. There’s only Ren, heavy on top of him, his care evident in the way he strokes Hux inside, pushing the egg deep with his long fingers.

“So good, Hux. So good for me.” Oh, Kylo, Kylo, kissing Hux everywhere he can reach. He’s skimming Hux’s mind with the Force. He must be reading Hux’s need, and this other feeling emanating from Hux that could almost be called affection.

Hux wraps his arms around Ren’s neck and tangles his hands in Ren’s hair. He tugs, hard, to bring Ren’s mouth to his. Their teeth clack together as they kiss, clumsy as cadets, but with the history of their years together laced into each touch. Ren. Supreme Leader. Kylo. He tastes perfect, the inside of his mouth soft and hot and willing. Hux is losing himself to this, or else he’s already lost. He wants Ren in him, but he wants Ren holding him, too. At the thought of Ren’s arms tight around him, his cock stretching him wide, Hux cries out, moaning into Ren’s mouth.

Ren’s cock leaks against Hux’s thigh. It’s a waste of pre-come, and Hux loathes waste.

Hux tugs Ren’s hair hard enough to break their kiss. “Kylo,” he whispers against Ren’s lips. “Fuck me. Now.”

They’re eye to eye. In Ren’s eyes, the old adoration. In Hux’s eyes...he doesn’t know how he must look now, to Ren. His hair is out of order, his lips burning from kisses. What does the Supreme Leader see when he looks at his Chancellor? If only he could read Ren’s mind to know.

Ren kisses Hux again, not deeply, just enough to take Hux’s lower lip between his and slide his hot tongue across it. With his mouth on Hux’s, he shifts his weight onto his elbows, angles his hips.

He eases into Hux, as if he’s teasing him, but the pleasure of each of Ren’s movements inside him is already intense enough that Hux can hardly bear it. Ren is watching Hux’s face, hungry for the shameful expressions Hux makes when he’s lost control of himself entirely. Hux is making noises too, helpless, his cock dripping hot between his belly and Ren’s.

Ren moves carefully inside him, but Hux needs to be fucked harder. He needs Ren to test himself, so that Hux can remember his own power. When Ren fucks into Hux with strength, the Supreme Leader has trouble holding back his orgasm, and watching Ren struggle not to come is one of Hux’s preferred pastimes. He tugs off his gloves and brings his hands to Ren’s nipples. Brushes the backs of his fingers across both hard pink nubs. 

“Supreme Leader,” Hux whispers again, and Ren’s face twists with pleasure, his dark lashes long against his cheeks.

There’s no doubt who’s in control here. No matter how Hux lets himself fall apart, no matter how he begs and moans and opens and surrenders, he’s the one asking for this, and Ren is giving it to him exactly as he wants it. _So good,_ Hux thinks as Ren snaps his hips roughly. He doesn’t care if Ren can hear it. _Good boy, my good Supreme Leader. Serve me._

Ren must have heard it, because he bites his lip and whines through his oversized nose, too overwhelmed to keep his rhythm. Stars, he’s dear like this, all big-eyed and solid and flecked with moles and scars. His thrusts are stronger now, as Hux wished. Ren is taking orders straight from Hux’s mind.

Hux tightens himself around Ren’s cock and drags his thumbs across Ren’s nipples, hard enough to hurt. Ren will last until Hux tells him to come, but there’s no fun in it if Hux can’t give Ren a challenge.

After all, Hux is close. The egg inside him has found its place, and fills him anew each time Ren’s tip brushes it and shifts it. He’s achingly hard in the way he likes, dragged ever closer by the friction of Ren’s body on his. And Ren’s obedience, the worship heavy in his eyes...

 _I belong to you, Hux,_ says Ren’s voice in his head, pure and unquestionable. Hux twists under him, gasps, and comes, clenching hard around Ren again and again, spurting across his belly with a high, surrendered cry of wanting. 

Ren fucks him through his orgasm, sending shocks of pleasure through his prostate and the aphrodisiac egg inside him. Hux chokes on his moans, oversensitive now. He wants Ren’s come inside him, hot against the egg, dripping down his thighs, marking Hux as filthy, needy, his.

So Hux brings his hands to Ren’s chest, rolling the Supreme Leader’s nipples across his soft palms. Ren’s hips stutter deliciously, but Hux doesn’t relent, not even when Ren makes a deep noise of longing from the bottom of his chest.

Hux takes Ren’s nipples between his thumb and two of his fingers, along with plenty of the flesh around them. He pinches, twists. Skates the pads of his thumbs over the sensitive tips until Ren collapses forward into the juncture of Hux’s neck and shoulder. The Supreme Leader mewls, snuffles desperately, begging without words. He’s at the edge, waiting only for Hux’s command.

“Go on,” Hux grants, his voice unsteady. “I permit you to come, Supreme Leader.”

Ren buries his face in Hux’s neck. He cries Hux’s name, hips shuddering as he falls apart. The rough strokes inside him make Hux’s eyelids flicker. He tenses around Ren’s cock, pulling the last of his orgasm out of him. The Supreme Leader moans another taut cry, wet mouth messy on Hux’s clean skin.

When Ren spills across the egg inside him, Hux has a strange sense of completeness unrelated to his sexual satisfaction. The shocks of arousal emanating from the egg diminish, until the egg is no longer a noticeable presence in Hux’s body. It’s as though it has always been there.

Hux remembers this from the filthier holosites which discussed the side effects of the Folvax eggs. “They feed on come,” someone had said, and Hux’s face had flared so hot that he’d needed to set his datapad aside for a moment while he caught his breath. Now he’s chosen to spend the next month in this state, living in the depraved reality of those hidden corners of the holonet where fetishists share their triumphs and troubles. He’s no better than any other Core World hedonist. Reduced to his physical needs by a mere impulse to try something new. And Ren, innocent of Hux’s true depravity, has been a willing servant to it. An unlikely pawn.

Ren pulls out of him. Come leaks from Hux’s hole, hot as it runs down, ruining his bedsheets.

“Hux, you’re...you’re...can’t believe you let me — you give yourself to me like this...Hux...”

Incoherent, Ren nuzzles Hux’s face, his sideburn, the pale mole on his cheek. He’s a good boy, Hux thinks again, and a last weak wave of pleasure pulses through his spent cock.

Rolling onto his back and pulling Hux to his chest, Ren strokes Hux’s hair with both hands. That’s disgusting. Hux knows where those hands have been. But he’s too fucked-out to complain.

Ren’s body is warm, the texture of all his scars intoxicating. Hux slides his hand under Ren’s lower back, to the raised burn scar in the shape of a line. He gave that scar to Ren after the Supreme Leader brought him the first lightsaber for his collection. The cauterised skin is soft as silk. When Hux strokes it, Ren shifts into Hux’s touch, his breath rough.

It’s not late, and Hux should clean himself before he sleeps, but instead he clings to Ren, drowsy in the Supreme Leader’s arms.

Ren’s Force-awareness flickers warm over the surface of Hux’s mind. The nosy bastard tries to read Hux’s thoughts when he thinks Hux won’t have the energy to mask his true feelings.

In detail, Hux imagines combing through the reports on his datapad. There’s nothing Ren hates more than being forced to think about work.

Ren’s mind leaves his, and Hux shivers at the emptiness. But he’s not entirely empty of Ren’s influence, not anymore. The egg still rests inside him, though he can’t feel it now.

“Are you satisfied, Supreme Leader? I’m full of this strange egg of yours, and your come, just as you wanted me. And my skin and hair will be improved in no time.”

Hux doesn’t mention Ren’s dangerous fantasy. He’s as close to pregnant as he’ll ever get, but Ren doesn’t need to think about that. Hux shouldn’t encourage the Supreme Leader’s obsession with non-professional intimacy. The Empire they share is more than enough.

Ren presses Hux closer to his broad chest. “Already perfect,” he mumbles, his nose buried in Hux’s hair.

“As long as it doesn’t get rid of the grey streak,” Hux says sleepily into Ren’s skin. “I’ve worked hard for it. I like it.”

The streak through his copper hair reminds him of Grand Admiral Sloane, the founder of the First Order. When Sloane was instructing young Hux in the ways of war, her hair bore the same line of silvery grey. Now Hux wears his like an inherited crown.

What would Sloane say to see him now, if she were alive? Well, she’d turn her back, for modesty’s sake, if she saw him stretched half-asleep across the Supreme Leader’s naked body. She might laugh to find Hux so debauched, gone domestic and indulgent in his middle age. She'd shake her head in shock to see how Hux has drifted far from his austere upbringing.

But in broadest terms, Sloane would be proud of her protégé. He’s carried out her legacy in the First Order. He’s cooperated with Ren, pushed past their differences to build the greatest empire in the Galaxy’s history. As long as they’re united, their Empire will be strong.

With that thought blazing in his quiet mind, Hux falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> “Symbiosis” will have three or four chapters covering the month-long egg aphrodisiac escapade. Stay braced for more luxe slutty Hux smut.
> 
> Hux’s starless void of sexual repression is a very oblique nod to k_dAzrael’s [“To the Pure.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485509)
> 
> I’m on Twitter at [sternfleck](https://twitter.com/sternfleck). I am new to fandom and in want of friends, so please, come talk to me about Grand Admiral Sloane, smutty DotF headcanons, and fics you’d like to see.


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